


eye to eye, thigh to thigh

by fimbulvetr



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Yukishiro Azuma, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Takatoo Tasuku, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 08:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18384986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fimbulvetr/pseuds/fimbulvetr
Summary: Azuma has some thoughts on some of the raunchier things fans say about Tasuku on social media.





	eye to eye, thigh to thigh

**Author's Note:**

> this is the pwp sequel of [give in, give out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714852/chapters/41791166) that nobody except me wanted. no need to read that one for this to make sense unless you feel like it!
> 
> thank you to my lovelies at the mankai-eccentrics discord (please join us) for dealing with my sobbing as usual
> 
> this is unbeta'd because realistically i can't make myself edit this and i don't want anyone else to either

Takato Tasuku has a few different reputations, depending on who you ask around Veludo Town. To Godza die-hards, he's a noble, bold, nuanced actor with an aristocratic air. To the average Winter Troupe fan, he's a dependable, experienced actor with a cool and stoic persona, rigid but secretly gentle. A tall, dark, handsome, heart of gold type of character.

Azuma learns about all this from Kazunari one night, when an in-dorm drinking session goes ever so slightly off the rails. He's heard of the concept of "ego searching" before, of course, the process of getting a little too curious and searching one's own name on social media, but he'd managed to miss the raunchier comments and speculations until then.

He bides his time before deciding to bring up any of the ideas proposed by Mankai's more zealous and imaginative fans, though, mostly for personal amusement. He likes the ones that paint him as being good at blowjobs especially, not least because they're true. But the ones about Tasuku are even better and more varied.

One afternoon, when he and Tasuku are coincidentally both in the lounge, Hisoka asleep with his head in Azuma’s lap, he brings out his phone and begins to read one of his favourites.

“'I bet Tasuku-sama really knows what to do with his tongue. Kyaa…'"

Tasuku makes a choking noise on his protein shake.

“’I totally get you, but don’t forget Prince Tasuku’s thick fingers, DM me for—’”

“Please stop,” Tasuku croaks.

“Why? I like your fingers too,” Azuma hums, idly flicking a tuft of Hisoka’s hair.

Tasuku takes a moment to chug down the rest of the shake, the vein in his temple throbbing.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Fufu.” He hasn’t. Day-drinking is for special occasions, and he doesn’t like to make a habit of opening a bottle for nothing. A bottle rarely stays filled once opened in Azuma’s presence—it’s equal parts superstition and bad habit.

“That’s not a—”

“Tasuku’s noisy,” mutters Hisoka. Azuma smooths down his hair soothingly.

“It’s all right, Hisoka, Tasuku’s going to his room now.”

Their eyes lock across the room. Tasuku knows better to argue that one, though that vein in his temple isn’t getting any smaller. But one of the cute things about him is that he knows when he’s beaten, and Azuma is an old hand at this kind of confidence game.

When Tasuku leaves the room, Azuma gently shuffles the prone figure of their troupe-mate off his lap. Hisoka settles into the couch cushions with a gentle sigh, curling into himself. Azuma can’t help but touch his hair again fondly for good measure, before making his way slowly to Tsumugi and Tasuku’s shared room.

 

Tsumugi is out today, shopping for planters with Guy in tow. Were this not the case, it would be considerably more awkward for Azuma to be kneeling on the floor of Room 204, between Tasuku’s legs. Tasuku’s shirt is hiked up over his abs, his jeans undone, and Azuma’s hands are making deft work of his underwear to curl his fingers around the base of Tasuku’s cock. He gives it a few slow, gentle strokes just to tease him. It’s already hard, Azuma just likes the cute noises he makes.

Then he smiles, licking over the head of the other man’s cock once, twice, coaxing out another gasp, before wetting his lips and taking it into his mouth.

To say Azuma has a history with sucking dick would be crass. It’s just that he’s been around a while—exactly how long he’ll never admit—and he knows more than one way of giving and receiving affection. Learning to negotiate his displays of intimacy has been a slow process, and even now there are lessons he’s learning and unlearning.

Azuma knew how some boys and men looked at him as early as high school. And some nights (many nights) he was desperate for ways not be lonely, to feel the touch of skin on skin. It was the same with girls, but girls were easier to put on a pedestal, to keep at arm’s length, to learn from. Boys were all experimentation, excitement.

Tasuku had blushed the first time they had sex. He was inexperienced, though he wasn’t exactly a fumbling teenager. It embarrassed him, but Azuma was happy to lead—patience is one of his many virtues—and anyway, it was cute that Tasuku had never “properly” been with anyone before, awkward locker room hand jobs and stolen kisses underneath the stairs aside.

The thought of that first time, unromantic though it was, makes him smile. Tasuku’s hand in Azuma’s hair tightens, more and more of it pulling free of his hair tie. The pressure from the other man’s hand presses him down just a little, and a lesser man might have gagged.

“Is something funny, Azuma-san?”

Azuma hums. He strokes the base of Tasuku’s dick again as an answer. The way Tasuku’s thighs shake—thick, hard, sculpted—at that is ridiculously hot. It’s one of his favourite things, usually, if he has any, just to make this tall muscled grouchy slab of a man come with just his mouth and fingers.

But that’s not the plan for today. He hollows his cheeks for one last suck before he moves back, letting Tasuku’s cock slide out of his mouth with a wet pop. Then he kisses the tip, for good measure.

“Fufu, maybe,” he says, moving up to straddle Tasuku’s thighs, careful to keep an inch of distance between their hips. He discards the hair tie with his left hand, tossing his head a little to let his hair frame his face properly. “I was just thinking about how cute you are.”

Tasuku sighs. His hands move to rest on Azuma’s hips. Azuma likes the grip of his fingers—likes it when he digs them in especially, how they sometimes leave marks. The fans aren’t wrong about the thickness of his fingers, but they’ll never feel the roughness of his fingertips, the controlled strength behind each little movement. Azuma feels very fortunate, when he thinks about that.

“You thought I was cute while you were sucking me off.”

Azuma smirks, leaning closer so their foreheads almost meet.

“Well, your _friend_ is cute too.”

“That doesn’t make me happy, Azuma-san,” he sighs.

“Azuma,” he corrects. There’s a thrill to hearing his name without the honorific from Tasuku’s mouth. When they’d just been fooling around, they’d hardly said names at all. Now that it’s different, he wants it to _be_ different. He likes being Azuma right now, not Azuma-san.

“Azuma,” Tasuku concedes, and kisses him, one hand moving to grip his ass as he does so. Azuma puts his own hand over Tasuku’s, as if to guide it.

“Remind me how much I like your fingers?” he asks sweetly.

The corner of Tasuku’s mouth twitches upwards, his gaze half-lidded and begrudgingly amused.

“Just keep it off social media.”

 

They start with two fingers because Azuma likes the initial push—even with lube, it’s a stretch, and the way Tasuku moves makes his knees weak. He moves in long, smooth strokes, fucking himself back onto Tasuku’s fingers, the front of his body rubbing against the other man’s torso, desperate for the friction.

“Wait,” Tasuku groans, and before Azuma can say anything, removes his fingers. His mouth drops open silently at the sudden loss. Tasuku tugs off his shirt, partly soiled, and Azuma still can’t find it in him to be annoyed because the view is, as usual, fantastic.

“Four,” he says, rolling one of the younger man’s nipple between his fingers, which elicits a growl. But Tasuku’s very obedient, knows better by now to ask questions, and reaches for the lube again to better facilitate the request, to push into him again. Four is _good_. Four is just about enough, hurts just enough, and Azuma’s so sensitive now it makes it all the better.

They shift again after a few moments, with Azuma on his back. The cheap sheets are scratchy against his skin, but with his legs up, Tasuku can reach deeper, suck those little marks on his thighs as he works him open. Azuma makes a mental note to follow up on the sheets later, but it’s a low priority thing to be thinking about while being finger-fucked by the former prince of Godza.

“Good, so good for me,” he pants, making sure to keep eye contact though it’s hard not to just roll his eyes back and let Tasuku take over completely. Tasuku likes the praise, though he wouldn’t admit it, and Azuma likes to give it. It’s a good match.

Tasuku crooks his fingers, kisses softly at a freshly made mark on the older man’s inner thigh, dark eyes locked with Azuma’s all the while, his gaze intense, attentive. “More?”

Azuma clenches, lifting his hips slightly, as if to test it, before shaking his head.

“No, I want _that.”_ He lifts a foot and tries to reach Tasuku’s crotch with it, managing despite the awkward position, and gives it a stroke for emphasis.

Tasuku hisses: “Azuma,” grabs his ankle with the hand that isn’t four fingers deep in his ass, and to Azuma’s surprise, presses the foot down harder.

“Fufu, is this something Tasuku likes?” he teases, breathlessly, flexing his toes. Tasuku’s cock is hot, slick with precum, and it twitches at his slightest touch. “Ah, can you come like this? I think—“

“Azuma-san,” Tasuku interrupts, grip tightening around his ankle as his fingers stop moving. There’s the honorific again, which means he’s getting impatient. Truthfully, Azuma is too.

“ _A-zu-ma_ ,” he corrects him lightly. He pulls back the foot. “If it’s a problem, you should hurry up and fuck me, Tasuku.”

That does it. Tasuku’s a little too easy to manipulate like that. The fingers slide out of his hole, and there’s a hurried rearrangement and re-slicking of the other man’s cock after they reverse their positions, with Tasuku on his back instead.

Azuma likes the little game they play here—you could call it an etude, even—where he presses his palm against Tasuku’s chest and with a gentle push, Tasuku falls back, as if Azuma had so much strength in his body to force Tasuku to do anything. It says something, when Tasuku does that. It says, _I’m here, I trust you, and you trust me_.

Then he moves his way up, mounting himself above him, lines up Tasuku’s cock against his entrance and sinks down until he bottoms out with a hoarse cry. Tasuku’s hands cup the swell of his ass, holding him down, holding him still, and the burn, the stretch, it’s all magnificent and it’s all _his_.

They stay like this for a while, Azuma’s hands braced against that same spot on Tasuku’s chest, his head dipped low so his hair falls around him. Tasuku’s breaths are heavy, and each heave of his chest seems to send a wave of motion through them both.

“Okay?” Azuma whispers.

Tasuku nods.

So Azuma starts to rise, and his hands lift from their position as he does so. Then he’s slamming his hips down again, lifting them, and then right back down, until he’s just riding Tasuku into the mattress and they’re both panting and moaning words that aren’t words. The only thing he understands is “Azuma,” and right then it’s all he needs.

Tasuku comes first. Azuma laugh-moans, because his face is so serious, his brow set in this wrinkle of profound concentration. The rush of heat inside and what it signifies is enough to bring Azuma close to the edge, so he wraps his hand around himself to hurry it along. When Tasuku’s hand closes around his, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, relinquishing control.

“It’s called a two-shot,” Azuma says, a little while afterwards, when they’re cleaned up and mostly decent. He’s half-resting on Tasuku’s shoulder, playing with his phone. “Do you want to take one?”

“Have _some_ mercy on me,” Tasuku sighs.

Azuma laughs, and kisses him on the cheek. Tasuku just does that little half smile he always does when he’s being fond but not wanting to be obvious about it, curling a strand of Azuma’s hair around his finger.

“I did promise to keep it off social media, I suppose,” Azuma concedes.

Not that he ever was going to broadcast something like this, even if there weren’t such a thing as actor scandals and Sakyo’s ever-impending apoplexy. There’s a kind of petty, very smug, teeny tiny little sliver of him that loves the fact that he may be the only one who knows for sure how good Tasuku is with his tongue and the sort of things he can do with his fingers. He knows a whole lot more, in fact.

On the stage, he’ll give the audience everything. They all do, especially Tasuku. But off the stage, between the scratchy sheets, there are some things that are just Azuma’s, even if it’s just for now, and that’s something he’ll take for granted as long as he can.

**Author's Note:**

> if you spotted the arrested development reference you are obligated to be my friend and i'm so sorry
> 
> i'm [@veludoway](http://twitter.com/veludoway) on twitter
> 
> if you have enjoyed my filth i would appreciate it if you'd [buy me a ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/piyos)


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